


Learning How to Feel Again

by lysaer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Empath, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 09:56:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5703412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysaer/pseuds/lysaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While working for Harry Potter, Anthony encounters a young woman in need of serious help. Sydney, an untrained, unrecognized Empath, is fresh out of an emotionally and psychologically abusive relationship. Anthony tries to help her, and finds an unexpected reward.</p><p>Companion story to A Chance For Everyone</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: With the exception of original characters Anthony, Sydney, Chef, and Stephanie, all persons places and things are the property of the lovely J.K. Rowling.

\--10pm Friday--

Anthony looks up from his book as the door to The Lost Boy opened and the slender blonde walked in. He sets the book aside, stands up from his chair, and walks over to stand behind the bar. "What'll it be, lass?"  Sydney sighed softly, sitting down at the bar, rubbing her head. "Whiskey, please," she answered the bartender quietly, rubbing her temples and struggling to keep the tears back. She was going to get so fucking wasted tonight, and hopefully have one good night of forgetting about everything that had just happened.

Nodding, he grabs a glass and the bottle and pours her a generous serving, then slides the glass over to her. "Seems like you're having a rough night there."  He looks around the almost empty bar and back at her. "I could probably spare a moment if you need an ear."

"Thank you," The small blonde says quietly. "You could say that." She answered softly, downing a bunch of the alcohol with a slight wince. "...I don't really want to talk about it. More in the mood to get piss-drunk and say nothing." She mutters, blinking back tears.

Anthony reaches down under the bar and pulls out a clean handkerchief, dropping it in her hand as he refills her glass. "Understandable. Would you like some food to go along with this? Will make the drunk take a little longer but you'll regret it less tomorrow."

She thankfully takes the handkerchief, and then lets out a short, bitter little laugh and places it back on the table. "I-I'm sorry, I'll... I'll get all my whore's makeup all over it." She said bitterly, pushing it back and wiping her eyes roughly with her dainty hands. "...You know what, fuck it... Yeah, I'll take, uh..." She glanced at a menu laying near her on the bar. "Fish and chips, I guess." She answered him with a sigh. She sipped at the whiskey a little more slowly now, starting to feel its effects.

He stops, tilts his head as he looks at her for a moment, then takes the glass and slides it away from her. "Tell you what." He turns to the side and grabs a different glass, and reaches up onto a shelf on the back wall and takes down a dusty bottle. Filling the glass from the old bottle, he says "Try some of this. It’s  aged for over 50 years." He puts the bottle back on the shelf and turns to shout into the kitchen. "Chef Hastings! Need a Thursday Night Special!"

Turning back to her, he puts the handkerchief back in her hand. "And?"

Her blue eyes widened in surprise as the man takes away her glass, seeming totally confused when he passed back a much finer alcohol, poured out of the dusty bottle. "I... Thank you," she mumbled in surprise, slowly trying the drink. She was surprised at how good it was, knocking back a little more. She's even more surprised when he handed back his handkerchief. "I...I really don't want to dirty up your nice handkerchief... But thank you." She said hesitantly. Her blue eyes stood out even more so than usual against the slight redness in her eyes and the black liner and mascara that she wore.

"I've got more, and a little wash and it's none the worse for wear, eh? Besides. You don't want to get that mascara in your eyes, your nose will stop up and then you won't enjoy your food. Chef makes a special, secret batter for the fish that is to die for," he says, smiling warmly at her.

Sydney smiled a little at this, hesitantly taking the white fabric and wiping her eyes. "T-That is true," she agreed quietly, trying not to let her voice shake too much as she answered him. "Thank you, I-I'm sure it's delicious. Better than cold takeout at home," she chuckled a little bit, but the tears don't stop. "Be right back with you." He puts the handkerchief back in her hand and pats her wrist softly. He stands up to his full height and turns to the beer taps, pouring a pitcher. Twisting so his shoulders don't rub between the wall of the bar and the trim, he walks out to the side room and out of her view for a few minutes.

She nods, but when he leaves, she can't help it, and the tears start pouring, forcing herself to choke down sobs as she attempted to get herself under control. She had another sip of the drink- she can feel it burning her throat a little bit, but the fuzzy warmth of tipsy ness was also starting to kick in.

He walks back over and slides behind the bar, brushing his dark brown hair back from his eyes. "Sorry about that. 2 old farts are reliving their glory days and the more they talk the more they drink to, as they say, 'Lubricate the memories'." He chuckles, and looks over at her. "Food should be out in a moment, how's the drink?"

He stops, and frowns concernedly as he sees the tear tracks. "Oh, poor thing. You -have- had a rough time of it, haven't you?" He takes the kerchief, and replaces it with a new one. He hands it back to her, and pauses. He leans forwards, and looking around, whispers. “Do you believe in magic?”

She looks back at him, confused, and then remembers she’s in a Muggle pub. She nods, slowly. “I do…are you a…?”

Anthony nods. “I’m a wizard. Do you mind if I take care of that streaked makeup for you?”

She shrugs. “I guess not?”

He shakes his arm, and a wand appears out of his sleeve. He quickly waves it at her, muttering a spell under his breath, and then slips the wand back up his sleeve. She checks her face to find her makeup has been cleaned off and her skin is bare. She blushes, but mutters a thank you.

“How’s the drink?” he asks, as if the magic hadn’t happened.

Sydney takes a deep, slightly shuddering breath as she tries to get herself under control, having a bit more of the drink. "It's great... Thank you so much. A-And I don't mind... It's just your job," she told him quietly, pushing one blonde curl behind her ear. She was glad to hear the food would be out soon; she hadn't eaten yet today and she was starved.

A bell rang from the kitchen, and Anthony smiled. “One moment, miss.”

He turns, and walks into the kitchen, muffled words are heard, and he comes back out with a plate piled up with golden brown fried fish, crispy chips, and a trio of small sauce cups filled with liquids. "Right on time, as I promised!" he says happily, placing the plate in front of her. He pulls out silverware and a thick cloth napkin and sets them beside the plate.

He tops off her glass and moves back to his seat, picking up his book. "And my job, description, young miss, is to attend to my patron's needs, be it drink, food, an ear to listen with, a handkerchief to dry wet eyes, even, during the school term, proofreading a young student’s essay on supply and demand in the cities." He smiles brightly at her, a tooth capped in silver winking in the lantern light, and sits down. "Now, you eat and enjoy that fish. Cook said he took extra care with it. I'll be here if you need anything." He opens his book and resumes reading.

The blonde manages to smile back at him this time, a real, genuine smile- not the forced, polite ones from earlier. "You are one hell of a bartender, then." She murmurs softly, before digging into the fish and chips. It was positively delicious, the best thing she'd eaten in ages- although considering she'd been basically eating nothing but salad and fruit and vegetables for the last few months, that wasn't saying much. But it was delicious and she had no trouble putting it all away, savoring the liquor along with it.

He grinned a small grin and said, as he turned the page, "I do try. Easier to do with a light crowd than after the Soccer matches, but this time of year a light crowd is all we get. Although I have a feeling the boss is going to change that. He’s got ideas, you know." The barkeep smiled to himself as he heard her devouring the food and making little sounds of pleasure as she ate.

He blinks, frowns, and says "I'm sorry, I completely forgot my manners." He closes the book on a finger and looks up at her. "My name is Anthony, and I'll be your bartender this snowy evening." Feeling better, he goes back to reading.

A little smile came to her mouth as he answered her, nodding a little bit at this. She soon finished off the food, carefully removing her napkin from her lap and wiping her mouth carefully. "Don't be, I seem to have- have forgotten mine too. It's a pleasure to meet you, Anthony. I'm Sydney." She said softly, taking a deep breath as she took another sip of the fine whiskey. The memories were starting to come back- returning home to find her boyfriend of three years in bed with another woman- a brunette, slim and tiny and absolutely gorgeous. Being jeered at and called a whore, and that since she was practically showing everything to anyone who asked, she didn't have a right to be angry at him. A fat ass like her had no right to be angry at him anyways, she didn't deserve it, he'd jeered.

"A sheer pleasure to meet you, Sydney!" The noise of a door shutting fills the bar area, and he turns. A stunningly beautiful brunette walks from a door at the back of the bar across the place, retrieves a coat from the hostess, and leaves the pub. A muffled sob comes up from most of the men, and Anthony is suddenly very busy closing out checks and tabs.

Once the bar was mostly empty, he turned back to Sydney. “How’s the food?” He asked.

“Delicious,” she replied honestly as she nearly inhaled the last few chips. It had been a while since she’d had a meal as hearty as this, and she started to pale, thinking about how much weight she was going to gain from the fried food.

A man walked over to Anthony and had a hushed conversation with him, at one point looking over at her and nodding in her direction.

Anthony nodded at the man, who walked to that back door and disappeared. “Last call!” Anthony called, and as she moved to get up he smiled at her and said “Stay, you’re fine. This is for the others.” The last of the customers paid their bills and filed out.

Sydney smiled back, again a bit forcedly. As Anthony closes everyone out, she puts her head down on the bar, softly beginning to cry again. God, it hurt so fucking much, everything did. She knocked back the rest of the strong drink and continued to silently sob into her arms on the countertop. Why had he done that? What had she done? She knew the answer well enough- she wasn't beautiful enough, she worked too hard at the Ministry, prepping for her Potions Mistresses' license, she ate far too much, she dressed too slutty and wore far too much makeup. All of this he'd told her before. But she didn't believe it would lead to this.

Anthony shows the last customer out the door and looks around the bar, then flips the sign in the window and latches the door. He walks back over to the kitchen door and sticks his head in. "Chef, you can head home, if the young miss needs anything else I'll cook it up. Have a good night, see you tomorrow! Boss says he wants something ‘special’ for tomorrow night’s dinner but I don’t know what yet."

He turns back to her and smiles, his smile faltering as he sees her head on her arms. He walks quickly over to the bar to touch her arm lightly, to make sure she wasn't passed out.

She slowly managed to calm her cries a little bit, struggling to wipe her tears away with her small hands once again. But they just kept coming and the pain was no longer dulled by the alcohol, it only made it worse. Her shoulders are trembling and she jerks in surprise and a little bit of pain when he gently touches her arm, wincing a little bit. God, how could she be so stupid? It clearly was her fault. She needed to go back, to prove that she could do better, that she was good enough. She wouldn't upset him anymore, and she'd diet even harder. Pull back on her work.

He feels her shuddering when he touches her, and frowns. "Hey now, what's so wrong, lovely lady? I can almost hear your thoughts running like a river over rapids, but not what they are. Here, let's do this proper."

He turns, grabs another glass and the bottle, and slides out from behind the bar and around to where she's seated. "Everyone's gone and I don't sleep much these days anyway, so you can have my full attention to ease your troubles. Let's go over here by the fire and you can let out what's eating you up like a dragon." He ever so gently takes her elbow, gesturing to the other side of the room.

She shakes her head softly, slowly sitting up and struggling to wipe away the tears. "I-I need to go back-" she managed to get out, clearly a little past tipsy by now. "I-I'm sorry, I-I have to be better, I-I have to go..." She tries to tell him, but she's slurring a little instead of her normally clear, concise sentences. Nonetheless, she quietly follows him to the fire, but she stiffens when he takes her elbow, a pained look on her face as she pulls away a little, but still follows closely, a little uncoordinated.

He notices her painful flinch and drops his hand from her skin as they walk towards the sofa in front of the fire, but keeps it poised to catch her if she stumbles. "Old Ogden really know how to make a liquor, didn't he? Don't worry, that will ease up momentarily, just need to give those chips a chance to even things out. Now, here we are. The most comfortable seat in the entire establishment," he sweeps his arm out, wand in hand, as if he were introducing the Queen of England. "Now, to have a proper fire-side discussion, all must be comfortable and cozy. For you, m'dear..." a flick of the wand and a soft fleecy blanket wraps around her shoulders. "And for myself..." he kicks his boots off to the fire and flicks the wand again. A pair of bright purple slippers with cat faces on the front of them flies through the air and lands on the floor in front of him. He steps into them, wiggling his toes deep into them and smiles with a giggle. "Ahhhh, much better." He turns and plops down onto the left end of the sofa, indicating the opposite end. "Sit, sit! Tell me of your woes."

Sydney seemed relieved when he took his hands off of her, stumbling a little as she made her way carefully over to the other side of the small sofa. She is a little surprised when the warm, fleece blanket is wrapped around her slender shoulders a she sits down, and the purple cat-faced slippers are nearly enough to get a tiny smile. She sighs softly as she sits down, hesitating as she feels the tears threaten to choke her. "I-I... I got home from work today- and my boyfriend- h-he was in bed with, with this gorgeous girl... W-We've been dating for three years, living together for one, a-and..." She shook her head. "...H-He said it was my fault.... I-I see it now though," she slurred. "I-I need to go back-a-and apologize-" she mumbled, clearly not thinking quite straight. She even moved to start getting up, feeling a bit dizzy from all the liquor.

He nodded. Her reactions since she'd arrived had been the signs of someone abused, and now he had his conformation. "Oh, Sydney, please stay seated for a bit longer. I think that Ogden’s hit you a bit harder than it should have. You haven't been eating well lately, have you? And as for him...well. Why would you apologize to him for him doing something wrong?" He looked at her pointedly.

"Here," he says, waving his wand and murmuring "Accio Serpico Potion," and hands her the bottle that lands in his hand. "Drink this. It will help. It'll bring your focus back."

She shook her head, but soon sat back down a little dizzily, feeling that she'd trip and fall if she attempted to walk in her state. "I...okay..." The blonde girl mumbled softly. "I... I-I've been trying to lose weight... I-It wasn't enough though, I-I didn't do well enough with my diet," she mumbled softly, looking disgustedly down at her slender figure. "B-Because I deserved it, it's my fault... I-I shouldn't've been working so hard, o-or dressing like I do, or wearing so much makeup, o-or eating so much," she said, starting to quietly cry again, her shoulders shaking. She hesitantly accepts the bottle from him, drinking a little of the slightly foul tasting potion with a grimace. It slowly seems to work though, and though it doesn't get rid of too much, it gets her to where she can at least formulate concise sentences.

He lets her drink the potion to sober up a little and gather herself, and pulls out a cigar. Clipping the end and lighting it with his wand-tip, rolling it in his hand as he draws the smoke through his mouth and out his nose, the woodsy, smoky scent drafting up into the air. He leans back and turns his head back to her.

She takes a deep breath as she starts to sober, a slight headache beginning. She looks up as he begins to smoke, the scent seeming to calm her a little. Her father had always smoked them, and the woodsy scent brought the distressed girl a little bit of comfort.

"Hmm. I think I begin to see. But let me say this one thing, and believe me, it's the truth." He looks at the smoke rising up from the cigar, and at the gold liquid in his glass. He turns back to her, green eyes intense. "Nobody, and I mean no person ever, deserves to have their heart broken."

The twitch in his cheek shows that he is remembering something, and he says more intently. "Nobody. Not even Voldemort, although I don’t think he ever had a heart. That is a fate that is not deserved, is not earned, and is not a gift or a fitting punishment for anything. That is a mistake made by the person who cheated. Not by the person cheated on."

Sydney softly wipes at her tears, a useless job. They just keep pouring down her face. She could never stop crying when she should, she reflected bitterly- it had caused Thomas to become angry and take out his anger on her, whether with the usual verbal or less frequent physical roughness. "...I deserved it." She mumbled quietly, staring intently at her small hands. "I deserve e-everything he's done to me, and more." She said, starting to cry hard again. "I-I can't ever be good enough for him- I don't- I try so hard, I do!" She began to sob. She didn't believe his words at all; they barely even registered in her brain at the moment. She can't make her blue eyes meet his green ones, embarrassed that she was sitting here sobbing and whining to him like a child.

He sighs. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to overstep. But that's my honest thought on that. And now...I could say that you're beautiful as you are, or that you're almost too skinny, although I do think those things, and that's my opinion. But those things are not the point. I dare say you have those thoughts because that's what he's told you. Those are the things that he has abu....ahem. Convinced you are true, because he is not a kind person." He frowns as her words pour out, and begins to get angry.

He stands, and begins to pace the floor, drink in one hand, cigar in the other, purple slippers slapping sillily against the floor. "I cannot begin to believe that there are still people like that out there. Sydney, you do NOT deserve to be treated like such. You are not a possession. You are a person, wholly and completely yourself. You should not change who or what you are for some ridiculous twat."

He stops pacing, and turns to face her. He drops down to a knee in front of her and pulls out another handkerchief, reaching up to dab at her cheeks. "You deserve so much more than that type of treatment. What you -deserve- is to be treated like a human being, not a slave to be discarded on a whim."

She shakes her head softly at this, her pretty curls loose. "N-No, you're not.. You're not overstepping," she mumbled. "T-Thank you... I-I'm sorry to-to bother you with my problems. It's none of your concern and way more than you h-have to do for me. I-I'm just sorry for taking up your time and bothering you," she says softly, looking up as he begins to speak again, her cheeks coloring as he states his own opinions- though she thought they were utter bull. "H-He hasn't convinced me of anything... H-He just pointed out the truth to me," she said softly, staring at her small hands, tightly folded in her lap.

She clearly looks very nervous when he begins to be angry, softly stammering, "I-I'm sorry I upset you, I-I didn't mean to-" she mumbled as he began to dab at her cheeks, her blue eyes wide as he spoke to her. She started to cry again at his words, shaking her head softly. "No-no I... I don't. I deserve all that I've gotten, it's all my own fault and e-everything would be fine if-if I could just not fuck up," she whispered, biting her plush lower lip.

His face softens, and he sighs again. "You're not taking up my time. If you weren't here, I'd just be sitting here getting drunk thinking about my own problems. At least yours I can...well, attempt to solve. But him...whoever he is, if this is his truth, he's living in a complete lie. The muggles have a term for this. They call it body-shaming, or fat-shaming. It's the attitude that one person's opinion should apply to everyone else, and that's wrong. And you haven't made me angry. He has."

He takes her hands in his much larger hands, and frowns as he feels her knuckles and wrist bones pressing against her thin skin. "And at the risk of imposing my own opinion on you, you are dangerously underfed. You've dieted too much for his sake...you must be even colder than I thought." He reaches over with one hand, pulling another blanket from a nearby chair, forgoing the use of his wand. He pulls the blanket over and around her and over her shoulders.

He raises a hand and reaches, then stops, and pulls his hand back. He stands again, blushing, and turns to face the fire, muttering something to himself. He picks up his drink and drains it, then returns to the sofa and takes a long pull on the cigar.

She bites her lip, nervously playing with her fingers as she avoids his intense green eyes. "Y-Yeah, but... I-I'm still taking up your time, and getting drunk would likely be a lot better than listening to me whine." She said softly, her voice shaking. "No, he isn't. Everything that he says about me is true, if not-" her voice caught"-if not on the conservative side of things." She mumbled softly, tensing up as he took her cold, small hands in his much larger, warmer ones. She can feel the bones pressing against his own hands. She shivers a little as he wraps her up in another blanket, realizing that she is indeed freezing cold, even if her cheeks are a warm scarlet. Sydney is a little confused when he lifts his hand, reaching and stopping before pulling it back. She quietly watched him stand and drain his drink before taking a pull on the cigar. She loved, however, when the smoky, woody scent was released, taking a deep breath of the smoke as she tried to calm herself. "I...I'm not. I weigh too much, if anything. I-I've been eating far too much lately- a-and the fish and chips was a ridiculous amount of food for me to eat," she begins to nervously fret, biting her lower lip once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: With the exception of original characters Anthony, Sydney, Chef, and Stephanie, all persons places and things are the property of the lovely J.K. Rowling.

"Right then. Proof is in the pudding," he murmurs to himself, and turns to face her, his cheeks still warm from the earlier blush. "Mind if I prove a small point?"

She hesitated before slowly nodding at this. "G-Go... Go ahead," she said slowly, but clearly a little nervous about what this point was going to be. She nervously played with her hands and fingers, watching him worriedly.

He stands, and walks over to a table. He takes one of the chairs and places it between the sofa and the fire. "Sit here, please."

The slender girl hesitates before slipping out of the heavy, fleece blankets and slowly making her way to the chair, stumbling a bit. She was shivering as well until she got closer to the fire, sitting neatly in the warm chair.

He walks over to the bar and picks up an almost full keg of beer, straining a little as he lifts it, corded muscles straining at the weight. He carefully carries it over by the sofa and sets it down with a grunt. "Would you say that you weigh less, the same, or more as this keg of beer?"

"I'll give you a hint. This keg weighs about 80 pounds."

Her eyes widened a little as he lifts the heavy keg, blinking. "A-At least the same, if not more," she instantly replied to him, eying it nervously as he set it beside the sofa, wondering what he was getting at.

He walks over to her, and says gently, "Trust me. I will not hurt you."

He then slides one arm under the seat of the chair and lifts it and her up with that one arm, effortlessly.

This alarms her even more, and she begins to stand, becoming a little frightened. She gasps as she feels the entire chair lifted with ease with one arm. Her eyes widen as she stares up at him fearfully as she's lifted. She is clutching the chair arms nervously, her mouth shut tight and her eyes wide as she's held in the air, trembling.

He gives her a look full of meaning, then sets the chair back down as gently as a feather lands. "You are not fat."

Turning, he picks up the blankets, shakes them out, and holds them open for her to wrap back up in.

She blinks, her heart starting to slow from the hummingbird pace it escalated to when she was in the air. She bites her lips softly; he had to strain to lift up the keg of butter beer sitting next to her; but he had been able to pick up her and the chair with total ease, with one arm. She was confused, but slowly got up, silently wrapping herself back in the blankets. There must be something wrong, she decided. The keg must weigh much more than 80 pounds, it had to.

He tucks the blankets around her shoulders and rubs her shoulders as he eases her back down onto the sofa, and returns to his seat. He pours two fresh glasses from the bottle and hands the shocked girl one. "That keg holds 62 pints. A pint's a pound, the world around, and the weight of the keg empty is around 30 pounds. And we do a tasting of every keg we bring in before we tap it for the customers, so it's about 8 pints light." He takes a sip of his drink and another pull on the cigar, filling the air around them with the heavy smoke.

She still seems in utter shock as she's gently led to the sofa and sat back down. She winces, however, as he touches her shoulders, unable to hold back a slight gasp. She avoids his eyes, hoping it isn't noticed as she takes another glass of the alcohol, hesitating before slowly sipping at it. "...T-There's no way. I-I can't- I can't be so light. I... I haven't weighed myself in ages, but... The last time I checked I-I was at least 115..." She mumbled, rubbing her head as she stared down at her thin, slender hands and wrists. "There's no way," she kept repeating.

He looks at her, and says very softly to her, "You can see your bones in your hands and wrists. I'm willing to bet you can see your ribs in the mirror when you look, you've just been convinced otherwise. If you were to eat any less, love, you'd be in St. Mungo's before the week is out."

"One thing I know as a bartender, is how much a person can drink before they get too drunk to stand. And that amount is a variety of factors. Age, height, weight, and body mass are the primary factors. Someone can build up a tolerance to a particular liquor as they get older, and you're...what, 22? 23? Not nearly enough time to have built up those tolerances. So that is a 2. You're not a very tall person...I'm guessing 5'2". So that's a 3. Oddly enough, shorter than 4'8" gains a tolerance value, but that's generally racial. Anyway. You're impossibly tiny, so that's a 1. And your body mass is also a 1. Math says that's a 5 on a scale of 20. Three drinks in an hour and you're down for the count."

Sydney stares at her slim hands, noting for the first time how the bones jutted out sharply through her ivory-pale skin. She bit her lip quietly, struggling to hold the tears back. "I...I never noticed..." She mumbled. "He... He said it was never enough... I would always just be a fat ass... I-It was stupid of me to even try to compete with that woman," she said softly, her voice catching and breaking as she continued to stare at her hands.

He blinks as she says the last. "You couldn't know you were, as you say, competing with the woman you found him with, dear. You didn't know about her. If you did, it wouldn't have hurt as much when you found them."

Sydney listens softly to him speak, her wide blue eyes meeting his own quietly. "Y-Yes... I'm 22," she answered quietly, finally seeming able to tear her eyes away from her hands. She continued to nod at his guesses, right on point. She glanced up at him- his prediction was completely accurate. The alcohol she'd had was normally enough to have her stone drunk by now, and it hadn't even been that much. She bit her lip as she shrugged. "...I should've known he was seeing someone else, it was painfully obvious." She mumbled, clearly thinking herself the idiot in the situation.

He looks intently at her. "The man is an idiot and a twat. Plain speak, Sydney. Plain speak. You've been indoctrinated as much as any Death Eater was. I'll hazard a guess your 'dear man' was in Slytherin house, wasn't he?"

"...Yes, we both were," she answered him slowly, her attention drawn back to her painfully thin hands.

He takes a drink. "Both were what?"

"We were both in Slytherin House," she answered back quietly, taking a sip of her own drink.

He nodded. "Sorting Hat offered you Hufflepuff, though, didn't it?" he asked.

She looked taken aback by this. "H-How- How did you know? I... It said it was the most bizarre conflict in houses he'd ever seen in a first year's head." She said a little sharply, shocked.

He sighs and nods. "The hat lets you choose. I was offered Ravenclaw because of my intellect, but chose Hufflepuff at its urging. Good thing, too. No other house would have recognized me for what I am and helped me learn how to deal with it. If you'd gone into Hufflepuff, your life would be vastly different."

"And I don't mean because you wouldn't have met the twat. No, because I know now why he could get in your head and convince you of all those lies. Why you flinch every time I touch you...why you flinch every time anyone touches you...even him."

"I-I know. I chose Slytherin despite its urging- I-I wanted somewhere I... I could develop my ambitions. I-I was a Muggleborn, and... I-I just wanted somewhere to get myself in the door of Wizarding society; I saw first thing on the train what it was like for a lot of the Muggleborns at school." She seems shocked when he starts to speak about why she flinches. "I-I don't flinch anytime anyone touches me, e-especially him," she tried to say, but she sounded pleading, desperate for him to believe her.

He gives her a half smile, his facing telling her he knows she's lying. "Because you're an empath, lovely Sydney. You feel the things that others feel, and Salazar Slytherin did not believe that was a real thing, so Slytherin House doesn't recognize the ability. Which, without training, is actually a liability." He stands, turns to face her, and lets down a mental barrier. His honesty and concern flood the air between them, an almost palpable feeling. Behind the force of those two emotions lies...something else he noticeably tamps down. "It's been a while since you and I both ate. I'm going to go fix us up something to fortify our bodies, and our souls. There's a book over on that shelf," he raises his wand and it flies over to her lap. "You might want to take a glance at it while I'm in the kitchen." He smiles gently at her and then walks into the kitchen.

Sydney's blue eyes widened in surprise at this, blinking and then furrowing her brow as she listened. An empath? She'd read about them before.. But had been lead to believe only fools thought it was a true talent or needed any training. She went pale when his barrier went down, the two emotions hitting her with the force of a tidal wave. She could feel the intense worry and concern, the honesty seeping in. At first she thought there might have been something else detectable in the flood, but it was swiftly gone. "...A-Alright." She mumbled softly, not sure what to believe anymore as she looked down and opened the book in her lap, frowning a little as she studied the front page, hesitantly returning the smile- though again, rather forced.

Noises came from the kitchen, chopping and pans clanging, the click-fwhoosh of a burner lighting, more chopping, and then some very inventive swearing.

Sydney blinks at the noises coming from the kitchen. She set the book aside, as well as the blankets, and shivering, she crept over to the door leading to the kitchen. "A-Are... Are you alright?" She stammered, teeth chattering.

Anthony jumps, not hearing her enter. "Yeah, I'm fine, just cut my finger chopping onions. Forgot Chef has the sharpest knives in existance. How do you like your eggs?"

He turns and looks, and sees her shivering. "Shades, girl! Why didn't you stay wrapped in the blankets? Get over here, sit by the stove."

"O-Oh, alright," she mumbled quietly, watching him intently. "I...I don't mind..." She says slowly, clearly a little uncertain about eating so much food, especially after she had eaten that giant meal earlier. She bit her lip, ducking her head as she quickly moved to sit by the warm stove. "I-I don't know, I'm sorry," she said instinctively, biting her lip. Why hadn't she? Why was she being so stupid? Her cheeks were hot with embarrassment as she stood there.

"You're going to turn into a popsicle. How did you make it over here in the snow without warmer clothing? Probably righteous rage keeping you going." His barrier still down, his worry for her is evident, as is his anger at the abuse her lover had put her through.

Sydney sat close to the stove quietly, watching him cook. "I-I don't know... I don't even really remember," she mumbled, although that might've been the alcohol talking. She seemed surprised at his offer, blinking.

He stops cooking, and turns.

“Sydney, there’s a hotel on the other side of this building. There’s a door to the left of the bar that leads through to there. Look...the lady who was in room 211 last week left a bag behind and hasn't responded to my owl. Go through that door – if you see a spiral staircase, you’re at the wrong left door, because that’s the right door…go see Holly at the front desk and tell her Anthony said to give you room 211. The lady who stayed there last week left a suitcase behind, she was about your size and there should be clothes in there to fit you. Take a shower if you want, and then come back down here. I’ll have the food ready for you.” He paused at her reluctant look. "Look, the snows piling up outside so I'm not going to let you go back out in it anyway, and it’s only going to get colder away from the stove and fires. Go upstairs, freshen up, and see if her bag has some warmer clothes in it. If nothing else, wrap up in the blanket from the bed. By the time you get back down here, I'll have the food ready."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: With the exception of original characters Anthony, Sydney, Chef, and Stephanie, all persons places and things are the property of the lovely J.K. Rowling.

"...O-Okay," she answered, quickly obeying his orders as she'd learned it was easier and better to do with Thomas. She moved away from the fire, shivering a little bit. "A-Alright... Thank you, Anthony," she murmurs, slowly making her through to the hotel front desk. “H-Holly?” she asked the redhead at the desk. “Anthony said I could have room…what was it…211?” The redhead smiled brightly at her and said “Of course!” Turning, the girl pulled a key off the hook for 211 and handed it to Sydney. “That’s the only key we have for that room right now, so please keep track of it. It’s up the stairs and to the left. Have a good stay!” Sydney found herself smiling at the young lady and thanked her. She went to the room and slipped inside, finding the bag sitting on the floor near the bed. She found a sweater and some warmer pants- though a few sizes too large, and the pants needed to be rolled up near the bottom. She took a quick, hot shower, and got dressed. She pulled out the few pins that were still in her hair and tucked them away, shaking out her loose curls to fall nearly to her waist. On her way back out, she pulled the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her. She walked back through the hotel hallway and into the pub. “Anthony?” she asked, nervous, but feeling better.

"Out here," he calls. He's pulled the table close in front of the fireplace and set two chairs to either side. The whisky glasses have been replaced with wine glasses filled with a yellowish clear wine. Two plates sit on the table, one has a fried egg, some scrambled eggs, and a poached egg, shredded fried potatoes, and crisp bacon. "Since you didn't know how you wanted your eggs, I made you a selection. Its 2am, so I figured breakfast was more appropriate than dinner." He pulls the chair out for her. "Good, you found warmer clothes. Feeling better already, aren't you?"

He blinks as she comes into better view, and she can feel the pulse of attraction from him. "Wow, you have the most beautiful hair."

Sydney makes her way over to the table, her blue eyes widening at the sight if the food heaped on one plate. "Oh, I-I can't eat all of that," she said, laughing nervously as she sat down at the table. She looked nervous at just the sight of it. "T-Thank you, though, Anthony," she murmurs, sitting down with a blanket wrapped around her. Her cheeks flush as the attraction makes itself evident, causing her to blush. "I... Thank you." She murmured. "T-Thomas wanted me to cut it off.. Get something more modern," she explained. "But... That was one thing I-I had my way on... It made me feel like a princess."

He pushes her chair in to the table. "Eat what you can, don't worry if you can't finish it. Although I think you can do it. And personally, I find long hair extremely attractive. And that color looks very good on you." He sits down and smiles warmly at her. "You can keep that book, by the way. All the books in here are overflow from my library at home, and I have another copy of it. Now, eat, be warm, and feel better."

He tucks into his own food, pushing the poached eggs up onto the potatoes and cutting into them so the yolks mix into the potatoes, onions, peppers, and cheese.

Nodding hesitantly, Sydney slowly began to eat the delicious breakfast, but she restrained herself, not wanting to eat too much and gain loads of weight. In fact, she reflected, this much food was nearly enough that she didn't need to eat tomorrow. "I, thank you," she said with a slight blush, a tiny smile appearing. "...Thank you very much." She murmured, putting another forkful of potatoes into her mouth. "I... Are you certain?" She asked slowly, glancing at the book. "...If I take it, you must let me trade you for one of my own," she told him earnestly. She didn't manage to eat all of it, but she put away all of the bacon, half of the potatoes, and most of the eggs; eating a lot more than she thought she would.

He smiles at her as she finishes off most of the food, and winces when he realizes his barrier is still down and feels her concern at the amount of food. "Sydney...I'm sorry, I felt that. I didn't put my shield back up...you...let me promise you, and FEEL the truth in what I'm saying. You are not going to get fat from eating this. You might get healthy, your body is starved for sustenance. Surely you can see that now." He sighs, concerned.

Picking up the last piece of bacon on his plate, he slowly eats it, contemplating her. She can feel the conflicting emotions running through him. Concern, worry, anger at Thomas' effect on her, attraction, desire, a conscious suppression of that desire, realization his barriers are still down, acceptance of that, and finally, determination.

Sydney smiled back a little weakly. Her heart drops, though, when he mentions that he forgot to put his shield back up. She could feel the complete honesty in his words, biting her lip as she glanced back down at her bony hands and wrists. "...I... I know..." She finally agreed with him, although it took a lot of repression to be able to admit it to him. She quietly studies him right back, taking the flow of emotion a little better now- although the anger frightens her, and the desire, well... She hasn't the slightest clue how to behave towards that. She sipped a little at the wine, still watching Anthony. His eyes were very expressive, she noticed, an intense green that showed his every feeling when his shield was down.

"Sydney, I am not the owner of the Lost Boy, but I am the general manager, and the owner trusts me. Room 211 is yours for as long as you need it. You can't go back to your home with that arrogant son of a bitch. He will only warp your sense of self even more than he already has. And if you're willing, I will train you to shield out the emotions of others and how to use your empathy.” He takes a sip of the wine and savors it as it goes down. "I'm not saying I'm going to fix you...because you don't need 'fixing'. But you do need to find your balance, and who you really are...not who HE thinks you are. He is not worth your time or energy, and especially not your tears. And I will not take advantage of you, although as I'm sure you can tell, I find you amazingly attractive."  He looks down at his empty plate, and then back up at her. "I offer to you my friendship, my experience as an empath, and my help. I know this is overwhelming, but that's who I am and what I do."

He grins suddenly, remembering an earlier statement. "Told you, my job is to attend to my patron's needs."

Sydney seemed shocked at the offer, staring at him for a good moment before she could even begin to consider it. She soon listens closely to him, considering this. "...I... I would like that, but..." She said slowly. "...I want to repay you, somehow. I could work here when I'm not at the Ministry... Or if you ever need extra help. But... I'd love for you to teach me how to... How to be a proper empath," she said softly, her voice a little rough from all the crying. "I... Thank you, so much, Anthony." She murmurs softly. "I... I can't thank or repay you enough for this...” Sydney said quietly, brushing away the tears when she felt them well up again. "You're... You're an amazing person." She told him quietly, meaning every bit of it.

He lets her take it in and then shakes his head. "No repayment necessary. I'll have no debts between us, love. This is what I need to do, and you letting me is all the repayment you have to offer. If you want a second job, though, you've got it. Provided you can take orders and carry drinks and food, of course. You WILL be paid, I won't accept any refusal, even if I have to deposit your check at Gringott's myself." He smiles at her, warmly, genuinely. "I was in your shoes once. Well, not exactly, but close enough. I warn you. Even with training, if you choose to let your shields down with the wrong person, you can still get hurt. But it is much less likely." He hands her yet another handkerchief.

"And I'm not amazing. I'm just me."

He reaches over and takes her hand in both of his. "At least now you're crying from happiness, not sorrow. That's a good night's work, in my book."

"No, please. I really want to do something for you, I... I don't feel right accepting this without helping you out in some way," she says with a small frown. "But I would be happy to work for you.. More weekends, though... I... I'm working through the final stages of getting my Potions Mistress certification," she told him, sounding excited for the first time since she'd arrived. "I understand, but... I still want to learn," she agrees with him, her cheeks flushing a little as he takes her thin, bony little hand in his large ones. "Y-Yes, it is." She agreed softly, before going a little pale, something seeming to strike her.

"And that's fine. We can always use more help on weekends. I'll even teach you to make drinks! And my special little sober-up potion. That'll get you extra credit with your certification." He blinks as he feels something hit her. "What's wrong?"

Sydney sighed softly, forcing a little smile as she nods. "Y-Yeah, that'll be great. Um... I-I'll have to go back, in the morning- or, well, later today- to get my things from the house and settle everything..." She said softly, rubbing her temples as she drew in a shaky breath.

He shook his head. "I'll send Derry for them in the morning. It's a Saturday, and a big soccer match over in Devonshire. Good time for it." He smiles at her. "Get on up to bed, now, and get some rest. The walls are soundproof so you'll sleep as long as you need. Nobody will bother you, you have my word."

Sydney quickly shook her head at this plan. "No, I need to go get my things, h-he won't know what to get and I'm sure Thomas won't help or try to help..." She tried to protest quietly, yawning a little bit. "And I know just when Thomas will be out as well," she finished sleepily.

Anthony nods. "Fair enough, but Derry will go with you just in case. Now get!" He grins, and pushes her towards the stairs with a gentle nudge. "I've got things to do before I sleep."

Sydney sighs softly, but nods and obediently gets up, making her way upstairs sleepily, the soft blanket still wrapped around her slender shoulders. She curls up in the bed and doesn't move again until about 9 am.

\--9:00am Sunday Morning--

Anthony looks up as she walks down the stairs, looking MUCH more well than she did when she'd first come into the bar. "Morning, love! There's a bit of a breakfast buffet on by the fire. We always do a buffet on Sundays."

She looks a lot better than she did that last night, that was for sure. Her beautiful blonde curls were again pinned back neatly, and she was dressed in her old clothes from last night- a black pencil skirt and a pretty white blouse, with flats on her small feet. "Good morning. Anthony," she answered with a shy smile, fixing herself a small- very small- plate. She dug in her pocket, carefully dropping some Galleons on the table. "Here, for my drinks and food last night and today." She told him carefully.

He raises an eyebrow, and pushes the coins back over to her. "You work here now, remember? Food and drink are part of the employment package. Besides. You didn't have anything last night." He smiles, wipes off the table, and turns to greet another patron as he lets his words register with her.

Sydney frowned at this, but she didn't argue at the moment. Later she'd slip the money into the till or something, she resolved. She waited til he'd served the patron before saying softly- after glancing at the clock. "I-I'm... I'm going home to get my things. I should be back in an hour or two." She told him, starting to stand up.

Anthony gestured with his wand at a closet, and the door opened to reveal several chests and bags, neatly labeled and stacked. "Derry went and got them yesterday. I know you wanted to, but we weren't sure how long you were going to sleep. If there's anything missing, I'll escort you over there this afternoon."

Her blue eyes widened as the door flicked open. "Oh, um... Thank you." She murmured softly, moving over to the chests and bags. "I-I'm going to take this stuff upstairs and get it sorted." She told Anthony a bit timidly, carefully shrinking all the chests and bags so that they would fit in her pocket before picking them up and heading back upstairs.

“Wait. Yesterday?” she asked, that word finally registering with her.

He smiled apologetically at her. “Was wondering when you’d catch that. It’s Sunday. You came in here Thursday night. You’ve been asleep for 2 whole days. But by the looks of you now, you desperately needed it. Much more color in your cheeks.”

She’d slept for two whole days? How did that even happen? She went back to her room and set the chests and bags in the corner, carefully going through them to check and be sure nothing was missing. She frowned- a few of her small Potions experiments were still there, and she'd need to go there and pick them up and bring them to the Ministry later. She changed into a pair of leggings, boots, and a fuzzy pink sweater before slipping back downstairs. "Do you need help with anything, Anthony?"

He was sitting in his chair behind the bar, feet kicked up on a stool, the well-worn paperback book in his hands. He looked up at her and smiled. "Nope, we're empty at the moment and likely will be until everyone gets off work later. Unless you want to help Chef chop onions?" His eyes clearly showed he was joking.

Sydney smiled softly, letting out a slight laugh as she climbed up to sit at the bar. "If you're sure. I... I have to pick up a couple of my experiments from my house, they're extremely volatile if not handled and moved by someone who knows what they're doing... I'm just glad he didn't try and move them when he picked up my things.”

"Oh! Right, I forgot about that. Derry said, and I quote, 'I'm ain't touchin' nothin' that could be agin to asplode my ears off.' So he left those."

Sydney nodded. "Well, good of him, I'm certainly glad he didn't fuss with them, he could've gotten seriously hurt," she said, relieved.

He gestures at the Monday edition of the Daily Prophet. "You might find the article on page 3 to be interesting to you,' he says.” Thomas got himself arrested last night." Her eyes widened in shock. "H-He what?" She asked, quickly flipping to page 3.

He nodded. "Paper came while you were upstairs, or I'd have told you sooner. Seems that girl you caught him with was a Greengrass, and mommy did not approve. Mrs. Greengrass showed up to take her home and he made the mistake of threatening hers, and the daughter's, life with witnesses." He shakes his head. "Too bad they'll only keep him locked up for a couple weeks, but it'll be enough time for you to finish clearing out your experiments."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: With the exception of original characters Anthony, Sydney, Chef, and Stephanie, all persons places and things are the property of the lovely J.K. Rowling.

He looks at the clock on the wall and stands, stretching his tall frame out so his knees and elbows pop. "We've got a couple hours before the after-work rush begins. I’m going to make sure the bar is ready for tonight, you read that book. Ok?”

Sydney nodded quietly, reading through the article as she listened. "Damn," she whistled lowly, absently playing with a loose blonde curl. "I... That is rather... Convenient." She murmured softly, rubbing her forehead. "Yes, that should be enough time, hopefully. And with that amour of time I can do things a lot more safely," she murmured. "Are you sure you don't want my help?" She asked, glancing at the book on the sofa where'd she'd forgotten it the evening before.

Anthony shook his head and made shooing motions with his hands. "Time enough for that later. For now, read, learn. I can't train you until you fully understand what you've got going on inside your head and heart." He walks towards the kitchen, but glances back at her before passing through the door. Did she know that her outfit was his favorite combination? Although the pink wasn't the best color for her alabaster skin, he thought to himself. But she did indeed look healthier after a few good hearty meals and that long sleep. He nodded to himself, then went into the kitchen.

Sydney sighs softly, but obeys him. She gets up, not noticing the look back as she tucks a loose curl into her pinned up blonde hair. She picked up the book before moving to the end of the bar, resting her head on her hand and beginning to read quietly. The girl hadn't seen him look back, and she certainly knew nothing of her dressing in his favorite outfit. She continued to read, quite intrigued.

An hour or more passes, and Anthony comes out of the kitchen wiping his hands on a bar towel. People begin to enter the pub, and he begins serving them drinks and food. The girl seems engrossed in the book so he lets her be, except to refill the water glass he put near her.

Sydney's eyes don't leave her book, and she continues to read throughout the afternoon and evening, sipping quietly at the water placed by her. She didn't talk to the other patrons, though she garnered a few curious looks from a couple of women, and some interested looks from the men. When he has a break from serving the other customers, Anthony puts a plate of food near her left hand. She blinks, rather surprised when the chicken curry is placed next to her. She picks at it, managing to eat half of it before the familiar guilty feeling starts and she has to stop.

Anthony pushes the plate back closer to her as he fills another pitcher. "Eat, Sydney. Remember the keg." He smiles disarmingly at her and goes back out into the room.

She sighs softly, but slowly obeys, eating until almost all of the curry is gone. A man sits beside her, offering her a smile, which she nervously returns before engrossing herself in the book again, her heart rate racing. It makes her nervous being that close to most people, men in particular. She scoots away a little, sipping at her water as she read. Catching her movement out of the corner of his eye,  Anthony turns and doesn't need his empathy to see the girl's discomfort. He catches the eye of the man next to her, gives head a small shake, and then looks pointedly at a seat across the room. "I think Bill is looking for a game of cards, Rufus, if you're interested." The man nods, takes his drink, and moves away.

Sydney gives a relieved little smile to Anthony, calming a little. She's glad the man wasn't rude about it, and continue to quietly drink from the glass of water as she reads. "Thank you," she murmurs to Anthony with a smile.

"Stephanie dear, bar's yours," he calls out to the redhead flirting with customers in the main room, and sits down on the stool next to Sydney, after sliding it a couple feet over. "How's the reading?"

Sydney looked up, afraid for a moment that it was the man from earlier, or someone else. "Oh, hello," she answers softly, a small smile on her lips. "It's amazing, honestly, and... It makes a lot of sense. Explains some things," she says softly, tucking back a loose curl into her pinned up hair.

He smiles back at her. "Well, keep reading. You're on track to finish it by the time we close. We don't stay open late Sunday through Thursday, so I was thinking we could have our first lesson while Stephanie tidies up. What do you think?" 

Sydney nods, smiling. She seemed a lot better than she was the night before. "I'm going to. It's... It's really fascinating," she said quietly. "That sounds great," she answered, quickly returning to the book.

Anthony tapped her on the shoulder as she finished the last page, making her jump.

Sydney jumped, her blonde head flicking up to blink at Anthony nervously. "O-Oh, I'm sorry... I got a bit lost in the book," she said shyly, fussing with a little curl loose from her pinned up hair.

He held his hands up. "Sorry! Didn't mean to startle you. But the pub's closed, Stephanie and Chef are cleaning up, and I want to get this first lesson done while the book's fresh in your mind." He smiles warmly at her, realizing just how much this girl is making him smile. He shakes his head, and steps away from her. "I set up a practice area over here." 

He walks over to the space in front of the fire where they talked the other night, now cleared of all tables and the sofa but for one chair. A series of concentric circles were drawn in chalk on the floor, with the chair at the center of the innermost one. 

"Alright!" She agreed, standing up and moving over to the circle a bit nervously. She offered a sweet smile back to him, seeming to ease a little at the sight of it.

"Ok. For your first lesson, you have to learn who you are, and what your feelings are. Not how you feel about something, but what feelings are yours and yours alone. To do that, sit in the chair there, and I'm going to put a shield up. But we won't do it all at once. Stephanie? Chef?" He settles Sydney in the chair and steps back into the next circle.

The redhead puts down the glass she was polishing and walks over to stand inside the circle outside Anthony's, and from the kitchen comes a tall, slender blonde man, who stands in the outermost circle.

"First, I'm going to put a shield up outside all of us, then after you adjust to only 4 sets of emotions, we'll move on down the line. Ready?"

The tiny woman nodded gently, listening to Anthony, focused. "Okay," is all she says, shyly making her way to the chair in the center and sitting in it. She noticed with a little dismay that it was the chair that Anthony had picked her up in earlier. Sydney watched as Stephanie and a tall, slender man made their way to stand in the circles outside of Anthony. The nervousness was practically rolling off of her in waves. "A-Alright," she repeated with a tiny nod, fussing a little with her pinned up hair.

As she sits down, he's caught again at how small she is. Waif-like, if he admitted it to himself. He shoved that down again and pulled out his wand. "Now, the first shield....Sydney...this is going to feel weird. Be strong." Flick of the wand, and a slight shimmer arose around the outside circle.

He knew what she'd be feeling...he remembered the first time he'd been shielded from outside emotion and the only thing he could describe it as was putting on thick earmuffs in a loud room. 

Sydney's eyes slipped shut when the shield went up, letting out a deep breath she hadn't realized she was holding. God, this... This was amazing... It felt like she was much more at peace, and alone, in a good way. She didn't even know how to describe it at all, to be honest. She barely noticed anything, just reveling in the bliss and relaxation of it.

 

He let her sit for a while, and then brought up the second shield, then the third. 

And then, after an hour had passed, he brought up the last shield and cut all outside influence off from her.

Sydney visibly shuddered, letting out a long sigh. She felt completely isolated, and it was like having a headache she didn’t realize she had disappear. She sat for a very long moment, drinking in all that was…her. Yes, she thought. That’s what she felt. Her.

Anthony watched her as she realized what she felt was only what SHE herself felt. He waited until she opened her eyes and looked at him, and even from where he stood he could see the tears brimming in her eyes. He’d felt the same way when he went through this the first time.

She opened her mouth, but words didn’t come out. She tried to speak, and Anthony held up a hand. “Don’t try to talk yet. Just…be yourself. Sit and wait. I’m going to take down the other shields so that Stephanie and Cook can get back to work, but I’ll leave that one shield up, ok?” She nodded. “Right now, what you’re feeling, that alone-ness? That’s you. I don’t mean that you’re alone, because I’m here, alright? But those emotions, those are all yours. Only yours. No outside influence, nothing being forced on you willingly or unwillingly. I want you to sit, close your eyes, and recognize these emotions. Happiness, sadness, anger, love, frustration, jealousy, joy, all of these and more. These things are what YOU feel.”

He took down the outer shields and let Stephanie and Cook leave, but he kept the shield around her, and in a moment of indecision, the one around him as well.

“When you’re ready, we’ll talk more,” he said to her.

Sydney listened to him and nodded, closing her eyes. For a very long time, she sat there, breathing deeply and evenly. She no longer felt inadequate. She no longer felt pressured or hurried. Something bloomed inside her, and it took her a minute to figure out what it was. Joy. Pure, unadulterated joy. She started weeping profusely as she finally understood what Anthony had been trying to tell her. She had been manipulated by Thomas. And as she thought that, anger and hatred filled her. She recognized them for what they were, and sobbed at the fact that they were all hers. Hers and nobody else’s.

“Anthony?” She spoke after what seemed like hours.

“Yes, Sydney?” he replied.

“Why did you keep the shield up around you? I can feel it there,” she explained.

He chuckled. “Well, for one, I need to teach you how to do this, and I can’t do that if I drop your shield and you’re assaulted by the world around you again. For two, once you identify your emotions, I need you to know something else.”

She said “I’m ready.”

He frowned. “Are you sure? It hasn’t been that long.”

Sydney rolled her eyes and cut him a look that made him want to dance for joy. She had levelled a side-eye at him that he knew she wouldn’t have been able to pull off the day before. His hope for her future soared. “Do it,” she said, firmly.

He dropped the shield around her, and she could sense his presence now, guarded. “All the shields, Anthony, please,” she asked.

“As you wish, love,” he replied, and dropped his personal shields. She closed her eyes and took it in.

Satisfaction, in her quick learning. Trust, in her ability to learn what he had to teach. Happiness, that she now knew what had been forced upon her and could discard it. Desire and attraction for her, and she raised an eyebrow at that. A deep, soulful caring for her well-being that was pervasive enough that she opened her eyes and stared at him. He blushed, knowing what she was feeling.

Finally, a touch of guilt tinged with satisfaction. “Guilt? Why?” she asked.

He looked at the floor. “Thomas was picked up by the Aurors on my recommendation,” he admitted. “I told them what he’d done to you.”

He sighed and sat down on a chair. “I work with them sometimes. They hire me sometimes to investigate emotional incidents, such as abuse, domestic disputes, and even murders. My testimony is incontrovertible in such matters, and you’re not the first girl I’ve helped. Thomas will not be getting out of Azkaban for a very, very long time, and I’m not sorry about that.”

She could feel his sincerity as he spoke, and his honesty touched her. She stood up and walked over to him. “Thank you for that,” and she wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest. She felt then, his happiness that she would do that, and how touched he was that she hugged him. “I can feel that, you know.”

He blushed again and put his personal shields back up. As she felt him … diminish from her perceptions, she said “I need to know how to do that.”

He grinned. “And you will. I have a feeling you’ll be a quick study. But first, you need to prepare yourself for shielding. Now, you know what’s you and what’s not, yes?”

Sydney nodded. “For the first time in I don’t know how long.” Her eyes started to tear up again, and she ran over to him and jumped up, throwing her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He instinctively grabbed her waist to keep her from falling as he took a step back to balance himself.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou,” she said rapidly, pressing her cheek to his. She held on to him for a minute, then leaned back and kissed him full on the mouth. She let go of him and he gently lowered her to the floor as their lips parted. “You have changed my entire life, Anthony,” she said, as she ducked her head and blushed at her boldness.

Anthony touched his lips with his fingers, and coughed nervously. “Well, I’m glad it’s changed, and I guess I had a part in it..” he trailed off.

She shook her head. “You had a huge part in it. Now…before I interrupted you, what were you saying?” She marveled at her speech. She was no longer stammering, she was standing up straight, she felt confident in herself for the first time in her life.

He stared at her for a long minute, then shook his head to clear the cobwebs. “Right. Now that you know what feelings are yours, you can focus on them. Here. Sit down.” He pulled over another chair and set it facing hers. They both sat, looking at each other. “Close your eyes, and picture your emotions. I like to picture mine as colors, it seems to help me visualize them.” She did as she was asked, and nodded.

“Somewhere within that swirl of colors, is your center. Find that center, that small core where every color is present, and focus on it. Focus on that center.”

He watched her, waiting, until he saw that relaxation come over her face. “Now you have found that center…every time you do this, it will become easier until you are almost always centered. So..”

He reached over and tapped her on the knee, distracting her and causing her to lose that center. She let out a short “Eek,” and stared at him. He grinned. “Now do it again. When you can find your center in a two seconds, we’ll continue.”

This routine went on for about 15 minutes, until not only did she find her center in less than a second, she didn’t lose it when he touched her. “Good! I knew you’d learn this quickly.”

Now, the spell for the shield is one that you will one day not need a wand to cast, because it’s not magic, exactly, but you know magic so that’s how you’ll learn it. For now, move your wand in an oval shape, like this.” He showed her what she meant. “Now you do it.” It only took a couple of tries for her to get it right and he smiled brightly at her. “Great, Sydney. Now the words. Protego Adfectus. Say it like this. PRO-tego adFECtus.”

She made the symbol with the wand and said the words, and looked disappointed when nothing happened. Anthony touched her hand lightly, and gave her an encouraging smile. “It will take you a few tries. When you move your wand, and say the words, picture a bubble coming up around you.”

Sydney nodded and tried again. On the fourth try, she felt something try to come into being, and on the sixth attempt she succeeded. Anthony let out a little cheer. “You did it!”


End file.
